Again
by Ally01
Summary: I never thought that I would ever see him ever again, but there he stood, unbelievably close, only feet apart'yet he was so far away. The thought of seeing him ever again was totally unfathomable. I thought the last time I would ever see him, look into those eyes, were the day I walked through the door'but here he was, right before me.


**Again**

I never thought that I would ever see him ever again, but there he stood, unbelievably close, only feet apart yet he was so far away. The thought of seeing him ever again was totally unfathomable. I thought the last time I would ever see him, look into those eyes, were the day I walked through the door but here he was, right before me.

I had thought about it. What if I saw him again and he recognized me? Would I greet him, smile at him, slap him even? Or would I break down and cry? Would I tell him all the horrors he made me go through, and how many times he'd starred in my dreams and nightmares? But seeing him again, I would never believe it, never in a million years. But New York is, ironically, a small city, and fate sometimes plays cruel jokes on you. So here I am, sitting on the widow seat of the A train, watching him and remembering everything about our past.

Once he had walked through the automatic doors, I had noticed him. I've drowned in every detail of him. He was perfection. He was my past. He has grown taller and his shoulders were broader now. Underneath his t-shirt, his muscles were clearly visible. Every time he moved or tensed up, his muscles contracted, and it made him seem bigger than he was already. His eyes were tender, which was normal. No matter how cruel he can be; his eyes always made him seem like he was the one with the kindest of hearts. However, there was a certain sparkle in his eyes that I cannot place, and I realized the cause of it a fraction of a second after I noticed it.

He was with a girl, a gorgeous girl. Of course, a god like him could only be satisfied with a goddess. She was beautiful, and had piercing blue eyes, and I could see his warm chocolate eyes melt into hers. They were the golden couple, and that, everybody on the train could see. People would stare in admiration, and why wouldn't they? It's only reasonable to stare when the equals of gods are standing right in front of you. But the two of them, they only had their eyes on each other. They were unaware of everyone around them; their world is only large enough for the two of them.

I've also considered going up and identifying myself, but I decided against it. What had happened so many years ago probably was only a burden to him, while it was everything for me. He was everything that mattered during that time, but I was just another girl. Another girl that is just way too simple for him, way too plain. I was not enough for him. Once he was gone, he was never coming back. He was like the wind, always free spirited, always moving' never waiting for anyone to catch up.

But I wanted so desperately to talk to him, to hear the honey flowing from his lips. His voice was the soundtrack of my past, and when I close my eyes, I could hear it clearly even till this day. I also wanted desperately for him to know that I cried myself to sleep for a long time because of him, but also decided against it. It would be too embarrassing. It was way too embarrassing for me to admit that I cried for him, let alone him knowing. However, parts of me longed that he would telepathically read my mind and understand my pain.

How hard was it for me to see him like this so unbelievable happy, so unguarded with this girl. That was something I can never do, and it is only him to blame. My trust for guys was never the same because of him. I can never give myself fully because he took parts of me away when he decided to leave me behind.

The girl laughed at something he said, and her laugh was like wind chimes. Every male on the train was staring at her, unable to believe such a girl like her exists. Of course, I could see it on his face too. How happy he was that he got such a girl like her in his life, how no other girl can compare to her. My heart dropped. I knew that I never would be good enough, but to be able to see my competition it was heartbreaking. I never in a million years can be that. I can't be blond, beautiful, golden, the definition of perfection. I simply cannot do that. I'm too plain, too normal, too me.

What hurt the most was the wound he had inflicted on me. The knowledge that I am not worthy enough to be in his present and future, but this exquisite blond can. She was everything that I wanted to be his. What I wouldn't give to be the one he is holding right now, the one he was admiring. It's not that I didn't try I merely did not make it. The pain was never this unbearable, until this point, as I watched the two of them. I never knew how far behind I was, and how out of my league he was.

Did he ever regret what had happened between us? Did he ever think of me did I ever cross his mind? I was dying to know, what did I ever mean to him? Even when we were just friends, did I matter? I'm terrified that I knew that answer: that he never, ever cared about me. At that moment, though, there was nothing I wanted to know more. When he said he cares, did he truly mean it, or was he lying? I cannot bear to think that he was lying when he promised he'll stand by me forever. Even though he's not here right beside me, I wanted to know if he meant it when he said it at the time. Even if he cannot commit to it, I would be at ease to know if he had meant it when he said it. If he cared of me at all, that would be enough from him.

It killed me that the sight of him could bring all my feelings to the surface again. I cursed at myself silently. I thought I was over him, and that he meant nothing to me anymore, but I could see now that it's impossible. He was my first mistake, my first I guess you can say love, but I don't think that's it at all. He was just the first guy I had invested my feelings to, and that had never left me at all. He still was the beginning; the legend. He was the start of it all. My feelings for him were unrequited, and though I thought that was all in the past, I now know how terribly wrong we can be sometimes. Sometimes, we expect so much more out of ourselves, when it is clearly impossible.

I probably sat there and stared at him with the girl forever, reminiscing just about every memory I had of him. Somehow, I couldn't do that before I saw him. Once I saw him, everything just replayed in front of me, like a record, like a horror film that just wouldn't end.

Look at me, I demanded in my mind. A part of me wanted him to notice me, but another part didn't know what I'll do if he did. Then I decided that I rather him not notice me. It would be awkward if he did, and there's no limit to what I would do. I'm not sure what my knee-jerk reaction to his gaze would be if he ever noticed me. I wouldn't know what to do if he approached me and questioned me, with the blonde in tow. I could imagine my face flushing in embarrassment if he ever recognized me and tried to talk to me. If that ever happened, I'd figure I would just mutter something about him getting the wrong person, and that I had never seen him in my life. He would know that I was lying, that I know, but he wouldn't know for sure. I had changed enough. I had completely changed after we parted. I was no longer the same person I was when he left, but my feelings remained unchanged. He still meant something to me. My appearance, on the other hand' was another story.

When I had known him, I was completely natural, with the occasion exception of lip gloss, my face was make-up free. That had changed after he left. I thought I was not good enough, not smart enough, and not pretty enough. He had once commented on my eyes once, and I realized how unflattering they were, so I played them up with make-up. Now, only on my off days, I would be too tired to wear make-up. Usually though, you would see me with eyeliner and mascara. I had experimented with bold make-up also, but that was for certain occasions. I usually present myself with subtle make-up. Today, I was subtle, so I was certainly presentable if he chose to remember me.

The make-up was a sign of maturity for my parents, but for me it was a different purpose. After him, I was conscious about every one of my flaws. I wanted to change that. I couldn't be perfect, but I could be better. The make-up also served another purpose my firewall for guys. Ever since him, I could never trust guys the same way and make-up made it possible for me to hide. Smiles also helped me hide all the pain I had suffered from him. Its funny how they both can work together to serve the same purpose.

A voice announced the next stop and I saw the girl pick up her bag on the train floor. They were ready to leave.

I took the last few seconds of my time with him to savour my image of him. I tried to take a picture of him with my mind. Even though he would never know how I look like right now, I want to be able to remember how he looks. (Though I know that wouldn't be a problem. I will always remember him, no matter how much I scold myself for it.)

I can honestly say the sight of him and seeing him again surprised me, but I wouldn't regret seeing him. No matter how much he had hurt me, he had gained a place in my heart first and that can never be taken away or replaced.

The driver announced that we were now at the Waverly station. The doors opened automatically right after the driver spoke. The Girl led the way, and he gracefully followed. He was her slave of love, and anything she does, I realized, cannot and will not be wrong. I can see how much he adored her from one simple gaze. My heart felt like it was being squeezed. That can never happen between me and him, I've realized, and it killed me inside. Oh, how I hate when I'm right when I don't want to be.

As he and the girl passed my seat, he had a glimpse of me and a flicker of reorganization appeared on his face. His focus was suddenly all on me at that moment and it made me feel good. Take that, girl, I thought. But I know that it was only for that moment, and the girl can have him look at her for as long as she wants.

As he continued to look at me, I pretended that he was merely a stranger and I can tell you right now that I'm a very good actress. His face scrunched up, and I knew he was confused. He thought I didn't notice him when he noticed me and only I know he was the object of my thoughts from the moment he had stepped onto the train. Thankfully, he hadn't tried to talk to me and just walked past me with a confused look on his face. And yet, my eyes remained blank, not exposing my true feelings. I thanked God and my mother for giving me incredible acting skills. But, what I wouldn't give right now to have the power of reading minds so I could read his mind 'just a glimpse, anything. I just wanted to know. I want to know what his impression of me is now. Am I any better now?

I could feel his eyes still on me when he stepped onto the platform, his gaze burning a hole on my back. Now I felt completely naked when he looked at me, everything I tried to hide unfolded and it was due to the look he had on his face I couldn't define it, none of it. The train moved on and suddenly, waverly station was all but a blur. Only when Justin Russo was gone did I shed the tears that he would never see.


End file.
